


Modern Love

by justonewordpond



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Meet-Cute, Slow Burn, This takes place in the 1980s so you know it's going to be good, violence will be much later and have warnings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27665885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justonewordpond/pseuds/justonewordpond
Summary: An exploration of what would happen if Jervis Tetch and Jonathan Crane met before the beginning of their criminal careers.
Relationships: Jonathan Crane/Jervis Tetch
Comments: 15
Kudos: 46





	1. Champagne

**Author's Note:**

> As with my other fics, all characters in this are a combination of various Batman media and my own personal headcanons. The majority of Jervis' backstory is from Batman the Animated Series, although he is much shorter as he is in the comics. Jonathan's backstory is mostly Zero Year and the Animated Series.  
> This story takes place during the 1980s while Jervis is still working away at Wayne Tech and Jonathan is a professor at Gotham University. Because it does take place in the ‘80s there will be some outdated languages used to refer to physical/ mental health, as well as gender and sexuality. In these chapters I will always include a trigger warning in the beginning. Lastly, this fic will center around Jervis and Jonathan, although they will be encountering many familiar faces along the way.  
> Now, without further ado, let me take you to May of 1985….

Jervis watched from across the ballroom as Bruce Wayne greeted guests with a welcoming handshake or smile. It seemed easy for the billionaire, natural. Jervis picked uncomfortably at his shirt cuff. Dress clothes had always felt comforting to him, made him feel taller, in a way. Unfortunately, after three separate haberdashers had not offered anything that would fit his disproportionate body, he had been forced to shop instead in the children’s section of a local department store.

If he’d had enough time he would’ve bought a suit from the men's department and hemmed it himself, God knows he had done it enough times before. However, with the two days notice he’d received he’d had to make do with whatever he could find at short notice. What he was wearing now he was sure was originally intended to be an Easter suit. He knew that the color was perhaps a tinge unprofessional, but the light blue had attracted Jervis and it had fit better than the others he’d tried on before. Still, Jervis stood self consciously against a wall and watched the swarm of finely dressed men and women with their pearls and their Rolexes and their dignity move freely around the room.

If Jervis was honest with himself he didn’t know why he bothered to come. The idea had excited him at first, of course. The chance to see the inside of a billionaires night out was something most people only dreamed of. But he should have known he would not fit in here. There were a few others he recognized from Wayne Tech but not many. And certainly none he knew by name. He was doomed to just skirt around anxiously for the entire evening, as expected.  _ Lovely _ .

“Jervis!”

Jervis snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Bruce’s voice. His pulse picked up as he looked out into the crowd to see a small group of people approaching him, led by Bruce Wayne. Three people walked at his sides, chatting amiably and doing their best to ignore the woman practically dangling off of Bruce’s arm. Even from some feet away Jervis could smell the alcohol on her breath.

“Hello, Bruce.” Jervis smiled, having to fight back the urge to call him Mr. Wayne.

“I wanted to introduce you to these folks, I think they’d be very interested in your work.” Bruce said.

“My work?” Jervis chirped.

“Yes, they work for a subsidiary of Wayne Tech, Islington International. This is Jefferson Brown, Jackie Haven and Hannah Nygyn.”

“Aren’t you gonna introduce me, Brucie Bear?” The intoxicated woman on Bruce’s shoulder asked.

“My apologies.” Bruce smiled at her. “And this is my date, Rachel Giovani.”

“Jervis Tetch.” Jervis said, looking up at the five of them. He tried to push the feeling that he was surrounded out of his mind. 

“Jarvis? That’s a funny name!” Rachel said.

“It’s Jervis, actually,  _ with an E _ .” Jervis tried to smile to hide his discomfort

“Still a funny name!” Rachel laughed and Bruce turned to her.

“That’s extremely rude, Rachel.”

“Aw, he doesn’t mind, does he?” Rachel hiccupped. She looked expectantly at Jervis, waiting for him to agree with her. 

“Of course he minds.” Bruce snapped.

“It’s okay, Bruce, really.” Jervis smiled, quite embarrassed by the whole thing. 

“See! He said it’s okay! So I can call him whatever I want!”

“Well actually, no-“ Jervis protested but she cut in again.

“Y’know you’re like one of those guys in the factory. In-in Gene Wilder’s factory-“

“That’s enough.” Bruce interrupted her. “I think I should call a cab for you.” 

Bruce turned, Rachel still hanging onto his arm like a koala, and gave Jervis a genuine look of apology.

“I’m sorry, Jervis.” He said. Jervis watched him go, practically carrying his drunken date towards the exit. 

“What a total wastoid.” Jefferson scoffed. Jervis jumped, having forgotten that the other three were even there. 

“O-oh, yes, I- I suppose.” Jervis said, attempting to hide behind his glass of champagne, cheeks red with embarrassment. The one Bruce had introduced as Jackie took an hors d’oeuvres from a passing waiter and then turned to face Jervis. She was wearing a slim fitting pink dress with a broad-shouldered blazer that looked as if she had bought it straight off of a mannequin. Jervis found himself picking at the tight cuffs of his dress shirt again. 

“So,  _ Jarvis _ , you work for Bruce Wayne.” She said.

“Yes.” 

“What do you do?”

Jervis frowned at the question, wondering how he should answer it. As always he battled with the feeling that he should belittle his work so as to not attract too much attention to himself. Of course he was proud of his doctorate, but beyond a degree hanging on the wall of his lab and several scientific papers involving the frontal lobe, he had nothing to show for it. At this point the janitor was doing more successful work in his lab than he was. 

“I work in the neurology department.” He said, hoping they did not ask for specifics. 

“Ah, that must be fascinating work.” Jackie said. Jervis was sure it was meant to be sincere but the tone made him unsure of the intent. It was difficult for him on the best of days to interpret people’s emotions and true intentions, let alone in this ballroom filled with the upper class. Jervis was already half convinced they were out to expose him for who he really was: a sad little British man lost in the cosmos that was America. 

“Yes.” He said. He was about to give a small explanation of what he studied when Hannah interrupted him. 

“How do you like working for Bruce Wayne?” She asked.

“Oh, I-I like it, of course.” Jervis said, telling them what he knew they expected him to say. “Bruce is very generous.”

“Of course he is.” Hannah said. “His family has been the backbone of this city for more than a hundred years.” 

Jefferson laughed with contemptment at that. “If you think playboy Bruce Wayne is doing anything more than laying girls like  _ that  _ every night of the week than you’re delusional. Hell, I do more for this city then he does.”

“You’re an airhead, Jefferson. The Wayne family is the only reason why Gotham is the way it is today.”

“Exactly!” Jefferson said. “Have you seen this city lately? It’s all gone to shit because Thomas and Martha Wayne are dead and that guy is calling the shots- don’t give me that look, Hannah! You know I’m right.”

Hannah scoffed and began to shake her head in disbelief. She looked over at Jackie, expecting her to back her up but instead the other woman shrugged. 

“Jefferson has a point, I mean the city really is beginning to fall apart. Have you seen crime rates lately? And now there's these costumed criminals creeping up everywhere, I mean what’s next?” 

Jervis stood with them for a few minutes, listening to them argue amongst themselves. He had only been in Gotham for a couple of years now so this version of the city was all he knew. Besides, it was not his place to make remarks about his employer, especially after Bruce had charitably invited him here in the first place. 

Jervis mumbled an apology that he needed to use the bathroom although he knew that the three would not even notice that he was gone, and then retreated once again to the outskirts of the ballroom. Once he was sure he was out of eyesight he took a deep breathe in and out, trying to hold himself together. He could just leave, he reminded himself. Maybe it would be better if he did. He could go home, enjoy a nice cuppa Earl Gray, and then fall asleep with a book in his lap. Oh that sounded just lovely. 

Jervis was daydreaming about the calm and solitary night he had ahead of him when he spotted Bruce Wayne walk back into the ballroom. He no longer had Rachel clinging to his arm and was once again back to shaking hands and sharing smiles. The last thing Jervis wanted was to have to talk to Bruce again. He knew that Bruce would apologize for the entire embarrassing ordeal with his date and the mere thought of having it brought up again made Jervis want to curl up and die. 

Jervis turned away, hoping he could make it to the exit without being spotted. In his haste he turned and walked directly into a solid shape that sent him backwards against the wall. Jervis was stunned for a second, confused to what he had run into before he realized that he had nearly knocked someone onto their ass. 

“I’m so sorry! I….” He started, and then found himself silent as he looked at the man he had bumped into. Jervis looked up, and then kept looking up until he finally found his face. He was what Jervis could only describe as the tallest and thinnest man he had ever seen in his life. The man looked back at Jervis as he rearranged himself, studying him with cold eyes. His look of sheer and utter contempt scared Jervis until it melted into indifference.

“It's fine. I walked into you as well.” The man said. His voice was slow and warm sounding, contrary to his cold demeanor. 

“Ah, but I made you spill your glass.” Jervis tutted at himself. “Here, I’ll get you another.”

“No need.” The man sighed. “I wasn’t drinking it anyway.”

Jervis looked at the man, braver now that he wasn’t staring down at him with annoyance any longer. It was clear by his stiff posture and awkward stance that he was uncomfortable.

“Just something to do with your hands, hm?” Jervis wondered, and then he held up his own glass he had, by some godsend, not spilled all over the man.

The man was quiet for a moment before he finally nodded his head. 

“Body language is easiest to read in those with anxiety and those with a guilty conscience.”

“And which are you?” Jervis asked with a light smile. The other man looked at him like he didn’t understand.

“I’m sorry, it was a joke. I’m a bit nervous as well.”

“I’m not nervous.” Jonathan said.

Jervis was a little taken aback by the whole conversation and he mumbled an apology again before turning away. He walked a few feet and then couldn’t help himself from looking back at the man. Jervis expected him to have walked away as well but he stayed there, looking out into the crowd with a mixture of disgust and disapproval. The promise of Earl Grey and a warm bed called to Jervis, but he found himself being drawn back to the miserable man. 

Not wanting to seem rude for leaving with no reason, Jervis stopped at the buffet table and filled up one of the small plates with a variety of finger foods. He circled back to the man, who looked surprised as Jervis approached him. Jervis offered him his plate and the man looked at it like he didn’t know what he should do with it. Judging by how thin he was maybe he didn’t.

“Would you like anything?” Jervis clarified, glancing between the man and his plate again.

“Oh. Thank you.” The man said. He hesitated and then picked something at random.

Jervis hummed and then smiled at him.

“My name’s Jervis Tetch.”

“Dr. Jonathan Crane.” Jonathan said. Jervis wondered if he should’ve introduced himself with the prefix as well, he had a doctorate after all. Almost professionally, Jonathan put out his hand which Jervis met. Jonathan smiled a little curiously when Jervis shook it with surprising strength.

“You’re not here with the university.” Jonathan noted. It wasn’t a question.

“No, I work for Wayne Tech.”

“And what do you do for Wayne Tech to get invited to one of these?” There was a slight sneer in his voice that Jervis read as scorn for the establishment rather than himself.

Jervis toyed with a cracker on his plate before answering.

“I study neuroscience.” 

“Fascinating.” Jonathan said with earnestly. “Which branch do you study?”

“Cognitive.” Jervis said. 

Jonathan hummed in an interested way, spurring Jervis to continue. He tried his best to explain his work according to his job description but then when Jonathan seemed intrigued he hinted at his personal projects as well. Jonathan nodded along for most of it, looking fascinated. This interest spurred Jervis into talking more strongly about his work, talking in a way that he had not in years. 

Jervis talked for quite some time until he stopped mid sentence and found himself blushing.

“Dear me, I’m rambling. I’m sorry.”

“No, I enjoyed hearing about it. You’re very passionate. It says a lot about a man's life how he talks of his work.” Jonathan said. 

“And what might your work be, if I may ask? Or if you’d allow me to guess...” He looked at Jonathan for confirmation and when he got it he studied him up and down again, eyes trailing over the second hand brown suit and ill fitting shirt. His trousers looked like something he had gotten from a goodwill and then barely hemmed in to fit his thin waist line. He had a dark tie around his neck and Jervis guessed it was probably the nicest part of clothing he owned. It certainly was the only thing that seemed store bought rather than second hand.

His short ginger hair was badly cut, swept up in messy tufts. His face was entirely made of harsh angles, from his thin nose to the prominent lines of his cheekbones. The only way Jervis could describe it was equine, if he allowed himself to think it. One shouldn’t make personal remarks, he reminded himself. He certainly wasn’t in any position himself to be judging others on their appearance. 

Jervis realized that Jonathan was leering back at him for staring and his eyes darted down to the plate in his hands instead. 

“Professor?” He asked. “I would say English, or something of that matter.”

Jonathan shook his head. “Professor, but of Psychology.”

Ah, Jervis should’ve known that from all the talk of body language.

“Do you still see patients?” Jervis found himself asking without thinking.

“Are you looking for a consultation?” Jonathan asked.

“Not currently.” Jervis said. “But you never know.”

Jonathan gave him another of his ‘I don’t understand’ looks but there was an amused smile on his face at the conversation.

“I might be able to squeeze you in- right in between grading failing essays and being forced to boring bourgeois balls.”

“Sounds like there’s barely any time left over for me with that kind of schedule.” Jervis laughed and then was immediately self conscious of the comment. He anxiously drank the last of his champagne and took one from a nearby waiter.

“Jonathan?” He asked. Jonathan looked down into the empty cup in his hand with a frown. He hesitated before taking a new glass from the waiter. 

“To the upper class,” Jervis smiled, raising his glass.

“I’d rather drink to something meaningful.” Jonathan said.

“Alright.” Jervis thought for a moment. “To science.”

Now that was something Jonathan could get behind. “To science.”

They clinked their glasses together and Jervis took a rather large sip of his. Jonathan looked almost suspiciously at the flute before raising it to his own lips. He took a mouthful of the liquid and was so surprised by the biter taste that he choked on it. He leaned forward, spitting most of the mouthful down his front as he gasped for air.

“Oh dear me!” Jervis said, giving Jonathan a pat on the back. He did not think he had done it particularly hard but Jonathan flinched from his touch as if he had sucker punched him. Jonathan raised a hand to signal for Jervis to stop, which Jervis did, although he still stood besides him with a worried look on his face. When Jonathan had regained his breath he realized that many of the partiers around them had stopped their conversations to look at him. Their expressions ranged from mild worry to impatience, as if his gasping breath was an inconvenient noise for them. 

Jervis rushed to grab him a napkin, which Jonathan wiped at his face with, hiding his blush behind it.

“Bathroom.” He muttered before turning and walking straight out of the ballroom.

Jervis watched Jonathan disappear into the throng of people. If he was honest with himself, Jervis was disappointed to have him go. He had actually found himself beginning to enjoy the party and was looking forward to talking to the strange man for the rest of the night if he could. He was sure that Jonathan certainly didn’t have anyone else to talk to at this event. When Jervis had first seen him he had looked even more lost than Jervis felt. 

Looking around at the swarm of people on the dance floor now, Jervis suddenly felt very alone without Jonathan by his side. For the second time that evening he was struck with an urge to leave and this time it was too strong to disobey. As much as he wanted to continue his conversation with Jonathan, he was sure that he wouldn’t even come back into the ballroom after the embarrassing ordeal he had just experienced.

At the very least Jervis thought he should leave his number for Jonathan, should he want to get in contact with him again. Jervis went over to one of the decorated circular tables set up and dropped into one of the fold up chairs there. With a sigh, he reached for a napkin and began to write his name and home number onto it. He wondered where he should leave it before he realized he could give the napkin to one of the waiters. Hopefully they would pass it along to Jonathan should they see him. At least Jervis could give a good description of Jonathan, with his tottering height and shock of red hair he stuck out in nearly any crowd. 

While he debated his options, Jervis let his eyes wander back to the people on the dance floor, the pulsating mass of figures intertwining and moving together like a handful of worms. Around him the music pulsed with a rhythmic drumline which matched his own hard-beating heart. On the dancefloor his eyes caught sight of a woman in a bright blue dress which swayed as she danced. Jervis watched the fabric move about her, fluttering in an almost organic way. His eyes became unfocused as he watched her move gracefully besides a partner that Jervis did not even process was there. His eyes were so enraptured with the movements of her body -

“Dr. Tetch?Jervis? Are you alright?”

“Hm?” Jervis asked, blinking a few times at his surroundings.“Sorry must’ve dozed off there for a second.” He added automatically. He rubbed at his eyes which immediately burned with dryness as if he’d had them open for several minutes. With how badly they hurt he wondered if somehow he had fallen asleep with them open. 

“That happen a lot?”

“I’ve had insomnia for a few years.” Jervis said. “ Sometimes I-“

“Not that. That.” Jonathan interrupted him. He pointed down at the napkin in front of Jervis. Jervis looked down and found the once white napkin was now completely covered in blue ink. There were parts where the pen had ripped through the thin paper entirely and he had begun drawing into the tablecloth underneath.

Jervis picked up the napkin to examine it but his fogged mind could make no sense of the mass of squiggles and sharp lines. There were places where he thought perhaps he had written something down but the only word he could make out was ‘verbal’ spelled with a mix of upper and lowercase letters.

“Could I see?” Jonathan asked and Jervis handed it over.

Jonathan looked it over for a second and then raised his glasses and squinted at it.

“It’s a brain.” He noted.

“A brain?”

Jonathan showed the napkin to him, pointing at a collection of twisted blue lines in the bottom corner. Jervis inspected it closer and he recognized the hard ballpoint lines were forming the brain stem. His eyes trailed upwards and yes, there was the cerebellum and the occipital lobe and every other part detailed amongst the mass of nonsensical lines. 

“Blimey.” Jervis said, finally seeing the brain as a whole. “That’s never… I don’t know why I drew that.”

Jonathan looked at him, amused at that.

“Maybe I could squeeze you in after all.”

“Oh because now I’m interesting?” Jervis laughed. “Oh no, Professor Crane, you’ve got papers to grade.”

Something about that amused Jonathan deeply and he gave a loud, almost boyish laugh. It sounded as if it was rusty coming from his chest, raw almost. Jervis noticed a pink about his high cheekbones and Jervis felt pride at making the man laugh like that. He doubted that it was an easy feat to do. 

When Jonathan’s laughter finally died down he handed Jervis back the napkin.

“You should hold onto that, might have some answers on it. You never know what your subconscious is trying to tell you.”

Jervis nodded and tucked it into an inside pocket of his coat.

“It might work,” Jonathan said after a moment.

“What would?” Jervis asked, turning to him.

“That experiment you had written. Might work.”

“I haven’t the foggiest what it says.” Jervis admit.

Jonathan looked at him again, eyes bright with interest. He had assumed there was something psychologically wrong with Jervis simply because he had talked to him in the first place but now he had definitive symptoms. He wanted to delve more into Jervis’ psyche but a passing waiter paused before them, offering both of them glasses of champagne. Jervis was surprised when Jonathan took one of the flutes without hesitation despite the ordeal he had just gone through. Following his lead, Jervis took a new glass as well. 

Neither of them offered to toast this time. Instead, they raised their glasses to their lips and drank at the same moment. This time Jonathan managed to swallow the champagne, although he did so with a grimace. 

“How do people drink this swill?” He asked, looking out at the people around them practically chugging the light liquid like it was seltzer water.

“It gets easier after the first glass.” Jervis said. He was working his way through his fourth glass that evening.

Jonathan hummed and took another drink, still grimacing.

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to.” Jervis said but Jonathan shook his head.

Jervis shrugged and looked up into Jonathan’s face again. Here in the darker lit corner of the ballroom he had a certain gleam in his eyes that Jervis wasn’t sure he liked or not. Jonathan noticed Jervis staring at him but this time he did not look back with anger. Instead, he gave a tired sigh and crossed his arms.

“You’re wondering what a Gotham University Professor of Psychology is doing at one of these events, aren’t you?”

That was the last thing Jervis was wondering, far behind ‘is he a serial killer?’ and ‘would I have a problem if he were?’ Now that Jonathan was warming up to him, he was proving to be one of the nicest people Jervis had met not just at this event, but in the whole of Gotham. He was polite, patient, and actually listened to what Jervis had to say without making a comment about his height or his accent or his appearance.

“Well this event is in part fundraising for Gotham University. I had figured most of the staff would be here. I also heard there was a special celebration for a new professor. They’re one of the youngest in recent history if I heard correctly.”

Jonathan smiled at that, absentmindedly running one of his thin fingers around the lip of his champagne glass.

“Yes, celebration.” He nodded.

“I wonder who it is.” Jervis said, looking out around the ballroom. “Is most of the staff here?”

“I don’t know. Frankly I could only point out a few fellow professors from the department and some I had while I was in undergrad. But I don’t believe many were invited to this.”

“But you’re here.” Jervis noted.

“Against my better judgment, yes.”

The mystery continues, Jervis thought. He was careful now not to stare at the other man any longer but he still stole glances at him from the corner of his eye. There was something dark, but intriguing about Jonathan that Jervis could not put his finger on. It was like an itch right in the back of his mind that he could not scratch. Perhaps it was his dark eyes, small, but enlarged by the coke-bottle glasses he wore that seemed to be studying everything they lay upon. 

“Another drink.” Jonathan said, somewhat brisker, as he motioned for a passing waiter. Jervis smiled as he took another glass of champagne and they drank together. 

For the next hour they talked and they laughed and bitched and they drank. It was almost as if Jonathan was trying to prove Jervis’ hypothesis about alcohol correct, that it was easier to drink after the first glass. In record time he was on his third glass of champagne, eyes slightly glassy and cheeks pink with alcohol and exertion as he talked loudly to Jervis about some scientific journal he had recently read which he wholeheartedly disagreed with. 

Jervis was enamored listening to Jonathan’s voice, impressed by his passion and vocabulary despite the champagne hitting him harder than either of them realized. There was also a tilt to Jonathan’s voice, a slow but undeniable change that Jervis thought was the shadow of a Southern accent. When he had been speaking before Jervis had not heard any hint of an accent but now it seemed like Jonathan was speaking more slowly, more deeply than before. 

“It was as if the author did not have a single iota of what Poe’s works-” Jonathan stopped dead in his tracks, the movement that he had been speaking with dead in his throat. The flute of champagne dropped from his hands and fell to the table where it broke, sending it’s contents splashing across the tablecloth. 

“Oh dear.” Jervis said, looking around for a napkin. In his own stupor he had failed to see Jonathan’s wide eyes until Jonathan was frantically moving his hands, moving between pulling at his hair and rubbing his eyes. 

“Jonathan? Are you alright?” Jervis asked him

“I...“ Jonathan started and then it seemed like he didn’t know how to explain himself. Jervis followed his eyes and saw a portly man in a scholarly smoking jacket in the middle of the crowd, flagged by other academic looking individuals.

“Trouble?” Jervis asked.

“No, no, he’s Dr. Pigeon, head of the psychology department. He asked me to come tonight.”

“But you’ve been avoiding him?” Jervis guessed.

“Yes, well, I was at the beginning. Then I just...” He let it trail off and shrugged at Jervis to show he had just been spending his evening talking to him. 

Jervis nodded that he understood Jonathan’s gesture and then looked between the heavy set man and Jonathan. Jonathan’s thin hands were shaking as he covered his face, mumbling into his palms words Jervis could barely understand. 

“He can’t- I can't let him see me like this. I can’t-” Jonathan said. 

“We can just leave.” Jervis said.

It took a moment for the statement to sink in for Jonathan. If someone had suggested the idea to him two hours ago he would have jumped on the offer to leave the gala. However, to leave now and burst this cozy little bubble that he and Jervis had built together was almost unthinkable.

From between his fingers, Jonathan peered over at Dr. Pigeon who was now much closer to them. Any minute he would look to his right and see Jonathan sitting here in the corner and-no he couldn’t do that, he couldn't have Pigeon see him like this, not now. 

“Do you want to leave?” Jonathan asked Jervis. With an exuberant smile Jervis drank the last of his champagne and stood. Jonathan joined him, although he swayed slightly as he stood. He might have lost his balance completely if Jervis hadn’t jumped forward to grab his arm.

“I'm fine.” Jonathan insisted, shrugging out of Jervis’ grasp. Once he had regained enough balance he crouched forward, trying to hide his height in the crowd. 

“Come, this way!” Jervis called to Jonathan, pointing directly into the center of the ballroom. Jonathan frowned at the suggestion, knowing that Jervis meant to drag him right through the mass of dancing people. He knew that it was a good idea to get lost in the crowd but the mere thought of stepping foot on the dancefloor made him nearly as nervous as confronting Pigeon right now and explaining why he had been dodging him the entire night.

“Jervis-” Jonathan groaned, realizing that in his hesitation he had lost his partner in the crowd. Jonathan charged into the swarm of pulsating and grinding individuals, careful not to accidentally bump into any of them. Trying to hold back his blind panic at being abandoned, Jonathan looked around desperately for Jervis but found only more dancers. In the frenzy he found himself turned around, lost amongst the crowd as one would in a foreign land. He no longer knew where he had come from or where he was going.

“Jonathan!”

With a sigh of relief, Jonathan did a full circle to find the source of Jervis’ voice. Jervis gave an impatient sigh and grabbed Jonathan’s hand, pulling him through the crowd. Strangely, Jonathan did not mind being led by the other man. If he was honest he was relieved that Jervis was able to weave in between the dancers, pulling Jonathan along as if he were a car following in a snowplow’s tracks during a blizzard. 

They were nearly at the doors when a man stepped in front of them, dressed immaculately in a three piece suit. His dark hair was slicked back and perched on his nose was a pair of expensive tortoise shell glasses. Even if he were in the dark, Jervis could have told that the man was an academic. Jervis quickly let go of Jonathan’s hand and looked between them. Jonathan’s smile was long gone and replaced by a sour look of indifference.

“Dr. Pigeon has been searching for you all night. Where have you been, Crane?” The man demanded.

“I’ve been right here.” Jonathan said. “But I have to leave.”

“And why is that? You’re going to miss the commencement.”

“I..” Jonathan started, but it was clear to Jervis that the alcohol in his veins was clouding the part of his brain that made up good excuses.

In a panic, Jervis did the only thing he could think of to do. He swayed and pretended to fall backwards into Jonathan’s surprised arms. Jonathan doubled over, holding the much shorter man up. With a shock of worry he looked down at Jervis, who was clutching his stomach. 

“I feel oh so sick, Jon.” Jervis groaned. He looked up at Jonathan and gave him a sly wink. The hint of a smile pulled at the corners of Jonathan’s lips as he understood. Jonathan gestured towards Jervis for the man to see. 

“My friend is sick, I have to see that he gets home.” Jonathan said. 

The man glanced over at Jervis with a look of cold indifference on his face. It was clear he couldn’t give any less of a shit about Jervis and made no motion to move out of their way. Jervis slapped a hand over his mouth and lurched forward toward the man as if he were about to vomit on his shoes. The man jumped to the left with a start, holding one hand against his chest as he gasped in revolton. 

“Excuse us.” Jonathan said, pleased at the path Jervis had made for them.

As they walked past him, Jervis suddenly shot out a hand, grabbing the man’s tie. He used it to pull the man’s face closer to his. The academic gave a shrill shriek and looked down into Jervis’ sickly face. 

“It was.... the caviar.” Jervis moaned before letting the man go. He allowed Jonathan to guide him to the exit and down the front steps of the building to the freedom of the street. 

Jervis led them down a block to an alley which they ducked into. Now in the safety of darkness away from Professor Pigeon and the rest of the bourgeoisie in the ballroom, Jonathan and Jervis both erupted in laughter. Jonathan had to hold onto a dumpster to keep himself from collapsing completely onto the ground with the force of his laughter. Jervis wiped at the tears in his eyes, his ribs screaming with pain as he tried to breathe through the hysterics. He could not remember the last time he had laughed like this. Maybe this was the first time. 

“Oh hell I’m drunk.” Jervis said as his laughter subsided into giggles. He put one hand on his side, trying to massage the pain from his chest. 

“Is that what this is?” Jonathan asked. He pushed his glasses up on his forehead to rub at his own wet eyes.

“Oh most definitely. We should go somewhere to sober up a bit. Coffee?”

“Coffee sounds great.” Jonathan smiled, happy to continue the night with this strange, wonderful man. 


	2. Church Mouse

A little known fact about Gotham is that no matter where in the city you are, you are still within walking distance of a twenty-four hour diner. These diners look vastly different, some covered in bright neons, others clothed in cold chrome, but all are identifiable as being a complete copy of the other. The menus are not just similar, but direct replicas of one another. The price for a cup of coffee is 1.25$, the cost of a flapjack is 2.50$. These are just some of the facts of life for a Gothamite. 

Another fact of life is that these twenty-four hour diners are the best place in the entire city to sober up. Just as moths toss themselves towards the intricate dance of the flame, drunk Gothamites flock to the inciting flicker of the neon hanging proudly in the windows. The menus in these places offer heavy, fatty meals at cheap prices that even those who have just spent their savings at the local bar can still afford. The waitresses are crisp, often exhausted looking women who have seen just enough shit in their careers to know when to let weirdos fly and when to have weirdos tossed back onto the street. This attitude keeps a certain consistency that comforts guests, such as the uniformity of fast food chains comforts Americans on holiday in foreign countries.

The waitress that greeted the two was brisk, but friendly. She seated them in a booth by the window and then immediately brought over a pitcher of black coffee without being prompted to. It was clear that she was wholly uninterested in the two, she was simply going through the motions of her job. 

“Just half, thank you dear. Can I get some cream or milk?” Jervis asked. It was clear his accent and niceties surprised her, and for the first time she looked directly at Jervis and gave a small, distant smile.

“Course, hon.” She said. She brought over a bowl of half and halfs and left it with them at the table. Jervis thanked her, and then took two handfuls of the creamer out of the bowl and placed them by his cup. Jonathan watched next as Jevis took a comical amount of sugar packets and began pouring them into his coffee. After the eighth sugar packet Jervis looked up from his cup and noticed Jonathan was staring at him. Self consciously, he covered up the mountain of sugar packets with his hand. 

“Sorry, sweet tooth. I usually don’t do so many in public but I can’t stand the taste of it without.”

“Why is that?”

“Just too bitter.”

“No.” Jonathan shook his head. “You said you usually don’t use that many in public. Why’s that?”

“Oh.” Jervis chirped. He began to open the half and halfs, dumping them into the half-filled cup of coffee. “Well people laugh, people joke. I suppose that’s not unusual but I don’t much like the attention.”

“I can tell. You’re like a church mouse.”

Jervis could not tell if that was an insult or not but he frowned regardless. 

“I’m not timid, not really. Just...wary. And weary.”

“Not a bad combination of things to be in Gotham.” Jonathan said.

Jervis thought about it for a moment before opening one last creamer and dumping it into his now filled cup. Across the table, Jonathan drank his own coffee, black as night. Just seeing him drink the bitter, burnt smelling coffee made Jervis want to stick his tongue out but he kept his judgments to himself.

“Have you ever been diagnosed before, Jervis?” Jonathan asked. Jervis perked up, sobering at the question. He gave Jonathan a look that showed that he clearly did not understand the question. 

“Have you ever been diagnosed with any mental disorders?”

Jervis put down his cup.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked defensively.

“Exactly what I asked.” Jonathan said. His voice was flat, emotionless, as if he had asked Jervis his favorite color. It was a tone that Jervis could only describe as clinical, and it made him squirm in his seat. 

“No, no.” Jervis said. He avoided Jonathan’s eyes altogether by staring down into his undrunk cup of coffee. 

Jonathan paused for a moment, considering, before he continued.

“I think therapy could be progressive for you.”

Bewildered once again, Jervis struggled to follow along with Jonathan’s line of questioning. He did not have any idea what would bring Jonathan to make such remarks at what seemed like random. Jervis braved a look up to Jonathan’s face, just to find the man staring back at him as he had the party. Under the fluorescents of the diner, his dark eyes were even more unsettling than they had been at the gala. 

“Well I did ask if you were available.” Jervis said, hoping his joke would distract Jonathan, or at least soften his gaze. 

“I’m not.” Jonathan said. There was a silence between them, filled only by Jervis uncomfortably mixing his coffee. He was stirring with such force that it was spilling down the sides and onto the table in front of them. Jervis did not seem to notice. 

“Should've gotten tea.” He murmured into his cup. 

Jonathan watched him with interest for a moment longer before he called for the waitress. She approached them, bringing a notepad out to take their order on. Jonathan ordered a hot tea and she nodded, tucking the notepad back into her apron. She disappeared into the kitchen and then reappeared a moment later with a mug filled with hot water. A rather hopeless looking teabag floated on the top of the water. Jonathan thanked her and then slid the cup over to Jervis.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Jervis said. 

“I was rude, I apologize. Sometimes my curiosity comes before my manners.”

“It’s fine.” Jervis said, attempting to calm his nerves. He looked at the brand name on the teabag and gave a disapproving look but accepted the peace treaty regardless.

Across from him, Jonathan looked out the window at the dark street outside. The Diamond District was an area of Gotham that he was not familiar with. In fact, before this evening Jonathan had never even stepped foot in the district. Mannequins wearing bright, expensive clothes looked down at him from unlit store windows. Diamonds and jewels twinkled from behind thick layers of bullet-proof glass. 

“Why have you spent the evening with me, Jervis?” He asked, turning back to face him.

Jervis considered the question before giving a noncommittal shrug . “Why have you spent the whole evening with  _ me _ ?” He asked.

“I believe I asked you first.” Jonathan said. 

Jervis took a long drink tea before he answered. “I think we both knew that each other didn’t really belong there, so we made a space together in which we did.”

“I belonged there.” Jonathan said. 

“You felt comfortable in that space?” Jervis asked, eyebrows raised in doubt.

“No.” Jonathan admitted. “No, but I was supposed to be there.”

He took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes.

“Pigeon is going to kill me Monday.” He said into his hand, just loud enough that Jervis could hear him.

Between his now nude face and the more comfortable language, Jervis was taken aback.

“Jonathan, excuse me for asking but... how old are you?” He asked.

“How old am I?” Jonathan said. He took a sip of his coffee before answering. “35.”

“No, you’re not.” Jervis said.

Jonathan thought for a moment. “No, I’m not. You’re right. I’m 23, I believe.”

“You believe?” 

“It’s a long story.” Jonathan said, clearing looking to avoid the entire debacle before it started. Jervis understood, there was plenty in his own past he would be happy not to have brought up to a complete stranger. 

Jonathan was now the one staring awkwardly down into his coffee cup to avoid making eye contact with Jervis. There was silence in between them for a minute until Jervis brought his hand down onto the counter with a noise loud enough for Jonathan to jump and several other patrons to look over at him. Jervis was practically bouncing in his seat as he connected the clues from the evening.

“Was that celebration for  _ you _ , Jonathan?”

Jonathan sighed but nodded his head.

“In part, yes. I just began teaching this past year. Professor Pigeon thought he was indulging me by having my name be part of the fundraising. However, I was never keen on the idea from the start.”

“And what I just helped you escape from was what, your celebration speech?”

“Yes.” Jonathan chuckled into his coffee. “Thank you for that.”

“No problem, really.” Jervis smiled at him.

The awkwardness that had settled between them lifted after that, and the two spent the next hour in their refound comfort. They talked until Jervis found himself drifting off mid sentence, words beginning to slur for a completely different reason than before. Jonathan chuckled at the sight and began to pull back on his suit jacket. 

“We should both be getting home.” He said. Jervis jumped, shaking his head to clear it. 

“Oh, yes. Dear me, it’s late.” He tutted as he looked down at his watch. It was after 2:00 in the morning. 

Jonathan got up from the table, stretching his long limbs as he did so. He had not realized that his legs had begun to fall asleep during the time they had been sitting together. Jervis tossed a five dollar bill onto the table to cover their coffees and his tea. They unconsciously walked slower than usual to the door, basking in the last few moments of the evening that they had together. 

At the doorway they turned to each other and Jonathan stuck out his hand. Jervis smiled as he shook it. He was about to bid Jonathan a good night, but then he held up his hand in a ‘one second’ gesture and darted back into the diner. Jonathan watched him, bemused, as he went up to the counter, grabbed a napkin, and then wrote something down on it. Smiling ear to ear again, Jervis came back outside and presented Jonathan with the napkin. In crisp, looping handwriting were two phone numbers. 

“The top is my lab at Wayne Tech, the bottom is my home number. We should get coffee again sometime.” Jervis said. 

Jonathan tucked the napkin into his jacket pocket and smiled at Jervis. “Thank you. For everything tonight.”

Jervis chuckled, remembering the stunt they had pulled to get Jonathan out of his speech.    
“It was my pleasure. Have a great night, Jonathan.”

“Goodnight.” 

With that the two walked in opposite directions back into the dark Gotham City night, feeling a fraction less alone than they had when they’d set out that evening. 


	3. No Call

“Oh Billy, you’re so  _ silly _ .” Alice Pleasance giggled into the phone that she had tucked between her ear and shoulder. Almost reflexively, she gave a quick glance down the hallway to check that the department supervisor, Dr. Cates, was still in her office. The last thing that Alice wanted today was to be the brunt of Dr. Cates’ angry rants about wasting company time. Satisfied to find the supervisor’s door was still shut, Alice settled back in her chair and let her full attention drift back to her boyfriend. 

“Of course!” Alice said into the phone at Billy’s proposition to take her out for dinner. There was a pizza joint in Old Town, he’d said, one that he just knew she would love. A romantic walk through old town was exactly what Alice wanted tonight. Even if the streets  _ were  _ dangerous that time of night, she felt safe with Billy’s arm around her.

“That sounds great.” She said. She held up the picture of him that she kept on her office desk and stared dreamily at it. This was what love was, wasn’t it? Walking together through the city, staring lovingly into each other’s eyes over a few slices of pizza. She couldn’t wait to marry this man, whenever he got up the courage to propose to her, that was. 

With a start, Alice jumped as she heard the noise of one of the doors down the hallway opening. Fearing it to be Dr. Cates, Alice held the phone tightly in her hand as she tried to straighten her desk in a panic with the other. 

“Billy I gotta go but we’ll meet tonight okay? Love you too, bye.”

Alice hung up the phone and pulled the keyboard to the computer towards herself. She sat up straight in her chair and began to loudly type into the computer, hoping to feign work loud enough and believable enough to trick Dr. Cates should she come down the hallway. In reality Alice was typing nonsense into the keys, but she was sure that no one was really going to stop and check. Alice found that if she looked busy enough then people were apt to leave her alone for most of the workday.

From the hallway, she could hear someone sigh, and then the familiar dragging footsteps of Jervis Tetch. With relief, she relaxed in her seat. She did not have to worry about acting busy with Jervis. He was never one to reprimand her for talking on the phone on company time, or misspellings in any documents she passed on to him. He was soft spoken and patient, almost to a fault, if she was honest.

Jervis came into the room, pulling on his coat and hat.

“Hey Jervis! Heading to lunch?” Alice asked, giving him a bright smile.

“Oh, uhm, yes, my dear. I think I just need a little break. My head’s been in the clouds all morning.”

Alice looked at him sympathetically. He looked tired, even more than usual. She had found him asleep in his office twice this week, and it was Wednesday. 

“You have seemed very distracted lately. Is everything okay?”

“Have I seemed so?” Jervis asked. He looked dismayed that his outer appearance showed his inner turmoil.

“I know you well, Jervis.” She smiled at him. She meant what she said, really. They had worked together since Jervis had started at the company. She was also the only one in the office that talked to him on a regular basis, as well as the only one who actually listened to him when he talked, not just nodded vaguely. 

If Alice was honest with herself she felt bad for Jervis, that was why she often went out on a limb for him. Whenever Dr. Cates was doing her usual rounds around the office Alice was sure to warn Jervis first, should he be asleep or tinkering with something unrelated to work in his office. Alice just could not stand to hear the way that Dr. Cates talked to him, threatening his job at every opportunity she got. Jervis let that woman bully him around and talk down to him as if he were an insect. Jervis never stood up for himself, never raised his voice or argued. It was admirable in a way, pitiful in another.

Alice also felt bad that many of the other doctors and workers in the department did not take him as seriously as they should. Alice could not even count all the times she had walked to the water cooler and heard a small group of workers making remarks about him. Jervis was an easy target, after all.

Shyly, Jervis took off his flat cap and ran the rim back and forth in his hands.

“That you do, my dear Alice. I apologize for my behavior of late.”

“No need to apologize.” She said. “Everybody gets distracted sometimes.”

“Yes, you’re right as usual.” Jervis said. He hesitated, hat still wringing in his hands. Alice could tell there was something truly bothering him as he looked around the office to see if they were alone.

“Are you alright, Jervis?” She asked.

“Yes, yes.” He said, and then he sighed and tried to give her an easy smile. “I- I hope this is not an inappropriate question to ask of a coworker, but I do see you more as a close friend, Alice. And I don’t really have anyone else to ask of this.”

“What’s the matter?” She asked him, eyes filled with worry.

“Oh, nothing’s the matter, really.” He assured her, voice quick. “I just- I wanted a second opinion on something.

“Of course. What is it?” Alice said, relieved that it clearly was not an emergency.

“I was just wondering... how long one should typically expect to wait to receive a phone call back?”

“A phone call back from who?”

“A..  _ friend _ .” Jervis said and by the way he said friend it was clear he was unsure if it was the appropriate word or not.

Alice’s eyes lit up as she understood.

“Oh Jervis.” She said. She was happy for him, she really was. She had known the man to be a bachelor, and a hopeless one at that. Sure, he was eccentric and a bit childish, not to mention not topping anywhere near the five foot range, but there was a heart in him that she could sense the very first time she had met him. Underneath his rather haphazard outer appearance was a man with boiling over passion and love. Why no one could ever see that she wasn’t sure.

“When did you give her your phone number?”

“Oh,  _ him _ , his name is Jonathan.” Jervis corrected her politely. “And last Friday. We met at Mr. Wayne’s gala.”

Alice was surprised by the pronoun correction, but not completely caught off guard. There were times that she had suspected Jervis of being a homosexual. She knew she was not the only one in the department to suspect that either, it was a common rumor around the water cooler. Alice had never heard it in a malicious manner however, this was Gotham, after all. She certainly didn’t have any bias against him if he were a homosexual. She even felt a little honored that he had trusted her with the information.

Honestly, she was happy that he was interested in men. There were times when she had thought he had a small crush on her, although she could never be sure. Jervis acted breathless and nervous around everyone he talked to in the office, from her to Bruce Wayne. Surely it was just his nervous behavior that she had been misinterpreting as flirting.

“Ah, a billionaire.” She smiled at him, making him chuckle and shake his head.

“Far from it, I’m afraid. But we did hit it off rather well, or so I thought.”

“Then I wouldn’t worry if I were you. He’ll call. But in the meantime you can’t be sitting besides the phone waiting for it or it won’t ring.”

Jervis nodded at that, and Alice was happy that he looked reassured. At the very least it seemed that he had some of his life back in him.

“Thank you, dear Alice.”

“No problem Jervis. I hope he calls.”

“Yes. I do too.” He said.

Jonathan did not call.

Another week went by that Jervis and Alice both spent with bated breaths. Alice was sure she wanted the phone call just as much as Jervis did at this point. She hated seeing him so distraught. It seemed that when Jervis was sad it affected every aspect of his life. Alice was now finding him asleep at his desk even more often than before, which was really saying something. It also seemed to her that every time she walked into his office everything seemed exactly where it was the day before, as if he had not even touched anything inside of it, despite staying for much longer hours than anyone else in the department.

Alice did all she could to reassure Jervis whenever she got the chance to. She knew better then to bring it up, but she still found ways to comfort him when she could. Any lunch she could spare to take with him she did. She even allowed him to take her to an English style pub in midtown for lunch an evening, and the look of excitement on his face had been worth the stomach ache she had gotten from the food later.

Despite Alice’s best attempts to cheer him up though, she could still see the doubt and sadness he was barely hiding behind his eyes. She did not know if it would be better to tell him to hold out hope or to move on.

By the next Friday Alice had just about given up hope herself when the phone began to ring. This was certainly nothing unusual, it was in her job description to answer the phone calls for the floor after all, but this time felt different somehow.

“Wayne Tech Neurology Department how may I help you today?” She asked sweetly into the phone.

“Hello, I’m looking to speak to Dr. Tetch.” The man on the line said. He sounded surprised to hear her voice, as if she had caught him off guard.

“I’m sorry, he’s in a meeting right now. If you’d like to call back in an hour or I could take a message.”

The man on the other end hesitated before he continued.

“Can you tell him that Jonathan called? Professor Jonathan Crane?”

At the name Alice perked up in her seat.

“Jonathan? Yes of course! Jervis has been looking forward to your call. You two met at the Wayne gala last week, didn’t you?”

The man hesitated again, clearly confused about how she knew so much about him.

“Yes, we did.” He said. “I apologize that I have kept him waiting for this long.”

Alice smiled at the polite voice on the phone. She could see why Jervis had taken such a liking to him. Between the two of them she thought they had all the manners in the entire city.

“He’ll just be happy to receive your call.” Alice said. “Would you like to leave your number so he can contact you later?”

“I unfortunately do not have a phone set up in my office. I could leave him a message, though.”

Alice brought over a yellow legal pad and clicked her pen open.

“I’m ready.” She said.

Again, Jonathan paused on the other end. When he spoke again his voice was professional and crisp sounding.

“Dr. Tetch, if you would like to meet I will be in my office, floor 4, number 13 in the psychology department at Gotham University between the hours of 6-9 tonight.”

Alice relayed the message back to him to make sure she had the information right and he thanked her for taking it down.

“I’ll make sure he gets it as soon as he’s back in the office.” She promised him.

“Thank you. Have a good evening.”

“You too.” She hung up the phone and looked over at the yellow notepad again. She could not wait to see the smile return to Jervis’ face when he received the message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Jervis' entire life is just one big misunderstanding and if that isn't just a mood then I don't know what is.


End file.
